Chapter 141: Chapter 139: No Matter How Hard He Tries... He Cant Warn Them...
(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...
I would like to this time choose a local deities.
--> Give me all the names you know. I would do research on them. Or you could share their story a little and their power and what they authority over.
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This five clan leaders were the some of the most powerful tantra practitioners in the region.
The same men who had approved the operation.
The same men who had sent him and his companions into Trivenivrata.
The eldest among them stepped forward.
"You are awake."
The young man didn’t respond.
His gaze remained fixed on the floor.
Another leader folded his arms.
"What are you doing here?"
The question sounded almost accusatory.
A third leader frowned.
-Frown!
"We received your message."
"The first stage was successful."
The young man remained silent.
"...."
The leader continued to ask further question.
"The dolls were buried."
"The ritual points were established."
"Everything was proceeding according to plan."
The atmosphere inside the hut became tense.
The clan heads exchanged glances.
None of them liked the look in the young man’s eye.
Finally one of them spoke.
"If everything succeeded..."
His voice hardened.
"...why are you here?"
The young man slowly looked up.
His remaining eye was bloodshot.
The silence stretched.
"...."
Then another leader added.
"You should be inside Trivenivrata."
"The second phase is approaching."
"The ritual requires coordination from both sides."
The young man’s lips twitched.
-Twitch!
"Inside the kingdom..."
The words emerged as a whisper.
The leaders frowned feeling something was off.
The young man repeated it.
"Inside the kingdom."
Then he chuckled. A small chuckle.
-Chuckle!
Dry. Mocking.
The leaders exchanged uneasy looks.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The chuckle grew louder.
Then louder. Then louder still.
Soon the young man was laughing openly.
"-HAHAHAHA!!!"
The sound filled the hut.
It wasn’t normal laughter. It wasn’t happiness.
It wasn’t relief.
It sounded broken.
The laughter of someone standing at the edge of sanity.
One of the younger clan leaders scowled.
"What is wrong with him?"
The elder of the young man’s clan immediately stepped forward.
He knelt beside the bed and grabbed the survivor’s shoulders.
"Enough."
The old man shook him.
"Look at me."
The laughter continued.
"-HAHAHAHA!!!"
"Look at me!"
The elder shook him harder.
The young man’s laughter never stopped.
If anything, it became worse.
The clan leaders began growing uncomfortable.
This wasn’t shock. This wasn’t grief.
It was something else.
Something deeper.
One of the clan leaders finally lost patience.
His brows furrowed.
His voice became sharp.
"What is so funny?"
The laughter abruptly stopped.
The hut became silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The young man lowered his head.
His shoulders trembled.
For a moment, the leaders thought he was crying.
Then he began laughing again.
Even harder than before.
He covered his face with his remaining hand.
The sound echoed throughout the hut.
The leaders stared at him as if he had lost his mind.
Confused.
Annoyed.
Uneasy.
Finally the young man slowly raised his head.
Tears streamed from his eye.
Yet he was smiling.
A smile completely devoid of humor.
His gaze moved from one clan leader to another.
Then he spoke.
"You still think..."
His voice cracked.
"...there’s going to be a ritual inside Trivenivrata?"
The laughter returned.
"-HAHAHA!!!"
The clan leaders frowned.
The young man pointed toward his missing arm.
Then toward his empty eye socket.
Then he looked directly at them.
"You think we succeeded?"
His smile widened.
A terrifying smile.
The smile of a man who had seen something he could never forget.
The hut suddenly felt colder.
Much colder.
The young man leaned forward.
And in a voice barely above a whisper said.
"We were never safe inside the kingdom once those dolls were buried."
The laughter vanished.
Every clan leader froze.
The young man’s eye slowly widened.
Fear returning to it.
Pure. Raw. Terror.
As his face going through several emotion which they could see like a open book.
His voice trembled.
"We entered."
"We walked."
"We buried the dolls."
"We thought nobody noticed."
The room remained silent.
Then the young man began shaking.
His breathing quickened.
And his next words caused every clan leader’s expression to darken.
"We were wrong. Very wrong."
The healers hut fell silent after the young man’s final words.
The five clan leaders stood there looking at him.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Some with annoyance.
Some with suspicion.
None with belief.
Because when ever he comes to a serious part he would began laughing like a crazy.
The survivor sat on the bed breathing heavily.
His remaining eye darted from face to face.
Looking desperately for someone.
Anyone.
Who would listen. Who would understand.
But all he saw were expressions of impatience.
The eldest among the leaders let out a long sigh.
The sound carried disappointment more than sympathy.
-Sigh!
"He has lost his senses."
Several others nodded.
-Nods!
The young man’s eye widened.
"No..."
One of the leaders waved a dismissive hand.
"You suffered severe injuries."
"Your companions died."
"You lost an arm."
"You lost an eye."
"It is no surprise your mind has broken."
The young man immediately shook his head.
"No!"
His voice cracked.
"No, you don’t understand!"
The clan leaders had already begun turning toward the exit.
The discussion was over in their minds.
The survivor’s heart nearly stopped.
Panic surged through him.
"You cannot perform the ritual!"
The leaders ignored him.
One of them pushed aside the curtain covering the doorway.
The young man nearly fell from the bed trying to get up.
"You don’t understand!"
His voice echoed throughout the hut.
"They know!"
Still nobody stopped.
The survivor’s breathing became frantic.
Fear was beginning to consume him once more.
The same fear he had felt inside that cursed forest.
The same fear he had felt when the blood began falling from the sky.
The same fear he had felt when those golden eyes looked directly into his soul.
"Please!"
The shout finally caused several leaders to pause.
Only for a moment.
The survivor immediately pointed toward them.
His hand shook uncontrollably.
"The dolls!"
The words came out almost as a scream.
"The dolls aren’t there anymore!"
That finally caused a few frowns.
The young man immediately continued.
"They dug them up!"
The leaders exchanged glances.
One of them folded his arms.
"What are you talking about?"
The survivor swallowed hard.
His memories flooded back.
The blood rain.
The forest.
The giant boar.
The dolls.
Covered in blood.
Lying before them.
His voice trembled.
"They brought them back."
The leaders frowned deeper.
The young man’s breathing became increasingly unstable.
"They dug them out."
"They dug all of them out."
The words tumbled from his mouth.
"The north one."
"The south one."
"The east."
"The west."
"The center."
"All of them."
The leaders stared at him.
Several looked unconvinced seeing the laughter which the survivor trying his best to hold back.
Others looked irritated.
One finally shook his head.
"Enough."
The survivor felt despair settle into his chest.
"No..."
The leader’s voice hardened.
"We received your message."
"The first stage succeeded."
"The dolls were buried."
"The ritual points were established."
"The operation continues."
The young man stared at them in disbelief.
"...."
Then horror. Then panic. Pure panic.
"No!"
He lurched forward like he wants to open their head and see whether there is brain or not.
"You don’t understand!"
His voice broke.
The leaders continued walking.
The survivor’s heart pounded violently.
"He’ll come here!"
The words exploded from his mouth.
For the first time, the leaders slowed slightly.
The young man immediately pointed toward the forest outside.
"He’ll come here!"
The leaders exchanged confused looks.
One frowned hearing the panic tone.
-Frown!
"Who?"
The survivor opened his mouth.
The image appeared in his mind.
Golden eyes.
A child-sized figure.
A grin stretching from ear to ear.
Karichathan.
The moment the name surfaced in his thoughts, something strange happened.
His mind suddenly felt heavy.
A pressure built inside his skull.
The survivor froze on the brink of losing it.
"...."
His expression twisted.
The leaders looked back.
Confused.
The young man tried to speak.
"Kari..."
The word caught in his throat.
A laugh escaped instead.
"-HAHA!!!"
The survivor’s eyes widened.
’No. Not now.’
He forced himself to his limit.
"Kari..."
Another laugh emerged.
"-HAHA!!!"
Louder this time.
The clan leaders frowned.
The survivor grabbed his own head.
"No..."
The pressure intensified.
Like dozens of voices whispering inside his skull.
Like someone scratching at the inside of his thoughts.
He tried again.
"Kari..."
Laughter erupted from his mouth.
Loud.
Uncontrollable.
"-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
The survivor stared at his own hands in horror.
He wasn’t laughing.
Yet he was.
The sound continued pouring out.
The clan leaders exchanged uneasy looks.
The survivor desperately tried to stop.
Tears streamed from his remaining eye.
"No..."
Laughter. More laughter.
His shoulders shook violently.
"-HAHAHAHA!!!"
His body bent forward.
The clan leaders watched with growing disappointment.
The oldest leader shook his head.
"His mind is broken."
The others silently agreed.
The survivor looked toward them desperately.
He wanted to scream.
To warn them.
To tell them about Karichathan.
To tell them about the divine boar.
To tell them about the blood rain.
To tell them about the spirits.
To tell them about the judgement waiting beyond the forest.
Instead—He laughed.
"-HAHAHA!!!"
The sound echoed throughout the hut.
Mad.
Broken.
Uncontrollable.
The leaders finally turned away.
The survivor reached out with his remaining hand.
"No..."
Laughter.
"Please..."
Laughter.
"Listen..."
Laughter.
One by one the clan leaders left the hut.
None looked back.
The curtain fell shut behind them.
The survivor was left alone.
His laughter slowly faded.
Tears continued rolling down his face.
"...."
Outside, preparations for the ritual resumed.
Practitioners moved through the settlement.
Offerings were gathered.
Circles were drawn.
Mantras were rehearsed.
The second phase would begin before dawn.
Inside the hut, the survivor lowered his head.
The fear in his eye returned.
Not fear for himself.
That had already passed.
Fear for everyone outside.
Because he had seen what waited in the darkness.
And worst of all... Nobody had believed him.
The surviving practitioner sat alone inside the healer’s hut.
His laughter had finally subsided.
Only exhausted breathing remained.
Outside, the settlement was alive with activity.
The clan members continued their preparations.
The ritual circles were being completed.
Offerings were being arranged.
Mantras were being memorized.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Or at least the clan leaders believed so.
The survivor slowly lowered his head.
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
If only they knew.
If only they understood.
The thing awaiting them was not Karichathan.
Not even the divine boar that had watched the judgement unfold.
No.
Those two had merely been warnings.
Merely guardians. Merely witnesses.
The true terror lay elsewhere.
The survivor remembered the final moments before he had been thrown beyond Trivenivrata’s borders.
The spirits.
The blood rain.
The kneeling dead.
The divine boar.
Karichathan.
All of them had looked toward something for a second.
Someone.
Something far greater.
The memory made his entire body shiver.
His remaining eye slowly widened.
The clan leaders believed they were preparing a ritual.
The survivor knew they were preparing a funeral.
Because if their actions continued...
If their arrogance continued...
If they truly succeeded in what they were attempting...
Then eventually they would attract the attention of the one being they should never attract.
A goddess.
He felt the presence which he would never mistaken.
But he hopes he was wrong.
But he clearly don’t know who it was... Except she was a Goddess.
But if he comes to know... and others finally finds the truth of.
She was not merely a deity.
Not merely a guardian.
But the first among the Ten
The highest.
The beginning.
The darkness before creation itself.
The mother from whom countless forms emerged.
Even remembering the presence he had felt that night caused cold sweat to form upon his skin.
The survivor slowly hugged himself.
"...."
Almost like a frightened child.
Because deep inside his soul, he understood something a whisper in his mind.
Karichathan had been playing.
Goddess Varahi had been warning.
But if This one ever arrived... There would be no warnings left.
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(Author note:)
I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.
-->
New Template:
But it will manifest little later into the story.
I would like to this time choose a local deities.
--> Give me all the names you know. I would do research on them. Or you could share their story a little and their power and what they authority over.
Don’t forget to review guys...
Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.
